


love don't come easy (it's a game of give and take)

by AutumnHobbit



Series: I told you you could always count on me [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, AU: Canon divergence, Angst, Crack, Feels, Fluff, Foreshadowing, Friends Are The Family We Choose, Gen, No Slash, Post Avengers: Age Of Ultron, References to early years, Road Trips, Southern Cooking, Southern Culture, Southern Values, Superheroes & Their Dysfunctional Childhoods, Team as Family, Thanksgiving, sap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-27 19:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2704562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnHobbit/pseuds/AutumnHobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a lifetime of weird experiences, Steve had never seen anything like a group of outlaws, aliens, agents, super-spies, and superheroes crowded around a table, eating turkey. </p><p>Or: Thanksgiving dinner at the Quill Family Homestead, Friendship, Fluff, & Feels. Part of my AvengersGuardiansbesties!au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To summarize: The Guardians & Avengers being besties is basically my therapy fic. Plus, I was on a road trip. Someone should probably confiscate my ipod for the good of humanity. 
> 
> I'm kinda making it up as I go along, but as always, expect fluff and angst. Cause that's how I roll.

November in Poland was unexpectedly cold this year, and the first snow had hit early. Steve shivered slightly in his thick leather jacket, digging through the file cabinets coated with nearly a century of dust.

Even if HYDRA had been relatively quiet, he still wasn't ready to let his guard down. Anyone else would have said the Ultron incident and the twins was a coincidence. And while Steve admitted it could have been, he had seen and heard too much to dismiss it entirely. He'd lost too much the first time around.

It won't happen again.

He pulled a few files from the drawer and set his flashlight on top of the cabinet, brushing off the dust and gingerly opening the folder. Black-and-white photos, various handscrawled notes in German and Russian--chemicals, judging by the small amount of Russian he knew--not uncommon for a long-abandoned base in the Carpathian range. Still, without a better translator, he had no idea if anything useful would turn up from the file.

There was a louder rustling from the other room, and Steve hurriedly stuffed the files into his well-loved canvas bag. Bucky leaned his head into the room, shooting Steve a look that said he knew exactly what he was up to. "Find anything?" he asked unnecessarily.

"Maybe." Steve latched the bag. "You?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "A cache of Stark Industries missiles."

Steve's eyebrows shot up. "Wow. They were here later than I thought. Tony's had 'em out of circulation for a number of years now."

"Doesn't stop them from buying 'em during the Cold War or later." Bucky pointed out. He sighed. "Sometimes I don't know what to make of that guy."

"Tony means well, Buck. You know that. Deep down, he'll always do the right thing."

"Mmm." Bucky wasn't outright declining, but wasn't agreeing, either. Steve understood how, after all he'd been through, he would doubt people's intentions. It was a difficulty he himself had, one he was trying to overcome.

"Wonder if we should take them with us?"

"Kinda hard to sneak those past airport security, punk," Bucky sighed.

"Oh. Right," Steve admitted sheepishly. "Guess it really is time to head back."

Bucky sighed again. It was becoming a habit with him. Steve didn't blame him, though. They were both tired. It had been a long several months on the road and undercover, and he could tell that it had reopened some old wounds and problems in his best friend.

But they were both here, and alive in 2017, and they had a home to go back to.

As far as Steve was concerned, that alone made them ahead of the game.

He and Bucky stepped out into the cold air, both of them drawing their coats tighter as they hurried towards the beater compact Steve had bought for a song off a guy who apparently collected mediocre old cars. Snow lightly fluttered to the ground around them. It was early, maybe 5:40 judging by the light, and all was quiet and calm.

The atmosphere was oddly bipolar to Steve, as he felt peaceful from the beautiful surroundings and having Bucky beside him, and angry and fearful at what had once been done here. He glanced over at his friend to see him taking in the morning as well, with an unreadable expression. It still hurt that he couldn't always tell what he was thinking anymore.

Steve dusted some of the snow off the roof of the car, sliding into the driver's seat and unlocking the door. Bucky clambered into the shotgun seat and promptly curled up under a fleece throw that had been sitting around. Steve reached over and flicked the vent towards him.

Bucky glanced at him, long-sufferingly, but with a touch of fondness. He bumped Steve's shoulder with his own, and then turned and laid his forehead against the glass. Steve grinned, and felt lighter than he had in months as they drove through the slowly-waking village.

***

The stewardess at the airport smiled at them when they handed her their passports. "Headed home for the holidays?" she asked brightly, in only slightly accented English.

Steve glanced at Bucky in confusion, and his friend rolled his eyes. "It's November 22, Steve."

"Oh! Oh, Thanksgiving," he said, turning back to the girl. "Yeah, I guess we sort of are."

She handed the booklets back and smiled. "Enjoy your flight."

They thanked her, and headed with the bunch of other passengers towards the gates.

"Come to think of it, where are we going when we get back?" Bucky asked quietly when most of the crowd was some distance away.

"Don't really know," Steve shrugged. "I still have my apartment, but I was barely ever there even before. It's probably kinda lonely. We could head back to the Tower...if you want to keep sticking around with me, that is..."

Bucky sighed. "Exactly where else would I go, Rogers?" But he nudged him playfully.

***

From the airport, they headed onto the subway into Manhattan. Steve felt more secure being back in New York. It was interesting to travel, even when dealing with HYDRA, but there was no place like home.

He pulled his sketchbook from the satchel with a pencil, and began sketching the girl sitting across from him. The train stopped to switch passengers, so he wasn't startled when someone sat down on his left.

He was when they nudged his knee with theirs.

"Hey, stranger," a familiar voice said. He turned to see Natasha, dressed as an average hostess or secretary commonly seen headed to Manhattan. Her hair was wavy again--and black--a startling contrast from her usual bright red locks.

"Hi yourself," he said with an easy smile. "What's with the...eh, getup?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." She smiled warmly. "James," she smiled at Bucky. He gave her a shy grin back.

Steve wasn't sure what to make of them. A while back, he'd thought they were an item. Then again, he'd thought Clint and Nat were an item, which was rather embarrassing when they found out. Tony still joked about 'shipping them.'

Steve supposed that the way they'd acted was friendship. It was one thing about the future that kind of drove him nuts...they always saw attraction where there was none.

"In here by coincidence?" He finally asked.

"Nah. Headed back to 'the Batcave.'" Stark really has a chip in his shoulder," she lightly laughed. "Anything interesting on you boys' end?"

Bucky shrugged on his other side. "Headshrink files and instructions. Chemicals and explosives. Torture chambers. You know. The usual." Natasha nodded with a bit of a snort.

"Wonder who all'll be there?" Steve said.

"Clint just got in from the farm. Tony's been living in the Tower since September. Bruce got back from another trip to India last month, and has been there since. Thor, so far as I know, is still in London. Peter and Gamora went on a cross-country trip a while ago--I gathered Peter wanted to show her where he grew up. Groot, Rocket and Drax hung around Tony since then."

"Huh. So it seems like the whole gang'll be back together."

"Guess so."

"Is...that a problem?" Steve asked hesitantly.

Natasha shook her head with a slight, but warm smile. "No," she said softly. "Not at all."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, fudge. I discovered, through Wikipedia, that Peter's supposed to be from Missouri. So, screw it. I'm ignoring it, cause it's a fic and a free country. And now I drop a monster of a long chapter. Sorry (maybe.)

Steve was surprised when they walked into the Tower, only to be greeted by JARVIS controlling a suit that was dressed as a pilgrim, and DUM-E with some colored feathers taped to his arm.

At least Bucky looked surprised, too. Natasha blinked. Which from her could mean anything.

"Welcome back, Captain, Sergeant, Agent," JARVIS said in his crisp voice. "Sir has been most lonesome in your absence."

"No screwing with my arm." Bucky said flatly. "No offense, JARVIS."

"None taken. I am merely required to encourage you," JARVIS responded dryly. "Captain, any results from your trip?"

"Yes, JARVIS," Steve said, handing the satchel to the suit. "If you wouldn't mind, please run a translation of this. And also, there was a cache of SI weapons in a HYDRA base on the Polish border."

"I see that you listed the coordinates. My thanks for that. It will be taken care of."

The three of them nodded and trailed into the elevator. "JARVIS is nice and all, but sometimes he scares me," Bucky muttered. "How exactly does he 'take care of things' in Poland?"

Natasha sighed, leaning against the wall. "If you knew where all Stark had eyes and ears, you'd be scared."

A disembodied voice emanated from the ceiling. "I apologize for being intimidating, Sergeant."

Bucky waved dismissively. "It's alright, JARVIS. You're scary in the same way Steve's ma was."

"I will take that as a compliment." There was a beep, and the doors slid open with a pneumatic groan. The threesome stepped into Tony's workshop, then stopped dead. The whole place was decorated with a myriad of banners, all proclaiming "Happy Turkey Day!" An inflatable turkey stood in one corner of the room, and Tony sat working on something in a pilgrim's hat, munching on cereal.

"Tony...?" Steve asked. 

"Oh! Hi guys! Back from your grand adventure, I see," Tony said brightly, too brightly. "What do you think?" he asked, gesturing to the expanse of Thanksgiving decor.

"You don't wanna know what I think," Natasha said wryly.

"I'm coming up empty," Bucky agreed.

"Ummm...why?" Steve asked.

"Because they were selling Christmas stuff at Costco, and I'm getting tired of their skipping Thanksgiving," Tony said. He grabbed another handful of cereal and started munching. "Also, there was a sale on Lucky Charms."

Natasha very slowly covered her face with her hand. Steve sighed. Bucky was stifling laughter.

"Anyways, Peter called a meeting at lunchtime. I was about to head up and bring Wilbur." He grabbed the inflatable turkey. "Wanna come?"

***

The only occupants of the floor  were Peter and Gamora. Tony immediately trotted out to place Wilbur on an end table. The other three took a bit more time to come in. "Greetings, everyone!" Gamora bounced up from the couch and embraced Natasha, Steve, and Bucky in short order. "It's good to see you again."

"You too," Natasha said with a smile when she pulled back.

Steve privately thought that Gamora learning human culture was adorable. She was apparently building her own fashion sense, as well, because she was wearing striped leggings with a long-sleeved dark red top. Her black hair had been cut recently to shoulder length, and the pink-highlighted curls bounced around her face. Peter, in contrast, was dressed down in a flannel red shirt and blue jeans. He greeted them all with a hug as well; a bit less enthusiastically than Gamora had, but warm all the same. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yep. How'd your trip go?" Steve asked as they each grabbed spaces on the couch.

"Oh, great. It was a little disorienting sometimes, you know? Seeing how much stuff has changed. But then again..." Peter shrugged with a bit of a smile, hands in his pockets as he lounged against the couch. "Some things never change. Actually, that's part of why I called everyone."

The elevator arrived, and Clint and Bruce entered. Greetings were exchanged, and others arrived during that. Soon, the room was full again. It took Peter awhile to get everyone settled and paying attention. When everyone was finally seated, he took the floor at the front of the room.

"Well, umm. Hi, everyone," Peter finally said, awkwardly waving his fingers.

"Hi, Peter!" a few of the more mischievous of the group called. Peter waved his hand dismissively.

"So, I suppose you're wondering why I've gathered you all here today."

"I am Groot!"

"I know you know!" Peter sighed. "Anyways, as some of you know, Gamora recently agreed to go with me on a trip to visit my grandpap. Whilst we were there, he brought up the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. I explained that I wasn't sure of any plans for myself, due to the team." He paused for dramatic effect. "So, he extended an invitation for all of us to head down to Alabama for Thanksgiving. Now, if you all have other plans, no one will be offended if you decline..."

There was an exchange of glances, and everyone shook their heads.

"...then we would be headed down there by any means you so choose, so as to be there by Wednesday."

There was silence. Then Tony said "What do I need to bring?"

"Pepper." Peter said without missing a beat.

"Okay." Tony pulled out his phone.

***

Steve, for his part, was packing a bag with a couple pairs of jeans, three shirts, his jacket, and his sketchbook. Everyone else was taking their time-- it was only Tuesday morning--but he figured it'd be smarter to just get ready now.

He'd opted for riding down with Peter and Gamora. Bucky had decided to go with them. Tony, being Tony, was flying down, and Bruce had decided on that course--said that he didn't do well with long, cramped car rides. Rocket and Groot were going--Steve privately thought that they were secretly missing space--and Drax and the others were going.

There was a soft knock on his open door, and he turned to see Natasha and Bucky leaning in. "What's up?" He asked guardedly, seeing their expressions.

"When's the last time you talked to Sharon?" Bucky asked.

Steve winced. "Umm..."

"Have you talked to her at all since Peggy died?" Natasha asked.

Normally, Steve would have bristled, but her tone was soft and genuine. "Yes. But...not much," he admitted.

"Maybe you should give her a call." Bucky pushed himself off the doorframe.

"But she might already have plans," Steve protested.

"And she might not," Natasha called over her shoulder.

Steve sighed, and glanced at his phone.

***

"Quill."

"Yeah, man?" Peter stuffed a folded shirt into his duffel bag, then glanced up at Drax, who was standing, fists on his waist. "If I may ask, what exactly is this 'Thanksgiving' we are going to celebrate?"

"Well," Peter said, walking back over to his dresser, "It's actually a holiday that is exactly what it says. It originated from when a bunch of people came from England--I'll show you where that is later--in 1620. They landed in Massachusetts and started a colony there. There's actually an animated movie that explains it...you'll probably see it at some point while we're there."

"Very well," Drax responded. "But what do voyagers have to do with giving thanks?"

Peter shrugged. "A year after they got there...well...things weren't so great when they first got there, and a year later they had an alliance, and help to survive, and a new home, so..." He trailed off, then shrugged again. "They set apart a day to thank God and be grateful for what they'd been given."

"Sounds dumb to me," Rocket commented from where he was perched on Groot's shoulder, tinkering with goodness-knew-what. "Only one specific day in the whole year to be grateful, eh? How difficult it must be."

"I am Groot." Groot said. His tone was vaguely protesting.

"Oh, of course you would," Rocket snorted.

"To give thanks for receiving friends, help, and a new home?" Drax drew them back to the subject.

"Yep." Peter said.

"Hmm. They sound like honorable men. With much in common to ourselves." He nodded to Peter. "I look forward to viewing this documentary."

***

Steve dialed the number and sat, listening while it rang. Tony stuck his head in the door. "Is Wilson coming?"

Steve shook his head. "He's got a family, so he's going with them."

"Right." Tony ducked back out.

Another ring. Then a soft click. Steve found himself drawing a breath. Then there was a quiet voice on the other end. "Steve?"

"Sharon," he said. There was silence, and Steve felt more and more awkward and guilty. "It's umm...been a while," she said, and that's when he broke.

"I'm sorry, Sharon. I didn't mean to just ignore you, especially when we were both going through a tough time, I just...wasn't sure how to respond, and..."

He realized that Sharon had been saying his name several times now, and forced himself to stop and swallow. "Steve...it's okay. I wasn't sure how to react, either. I don't blame you. I never did. It's hard, but..." There was a rustling, and he pictured her shrugging, golden curls bouncing around her shoulders. "It's where we live. For better or worse."

"Yeah. Maybe both." There was a beat, and Steve just sat and listened to her breathing on the other end.

Then he said, "You have any Thanksgiving plans?"

She gave a short, disbelieving giggle. "That was random."

He chuckled. "Yeah."

"Why do you ask?"

"Well...apparently Peter's grandfather is hosting in Alabama. All of us are going, so...plus, Buck and Nat have been nagging me to call you," he said wryly.

"You know, for Soviet assassins, they're remarkably thoughtful." He heard her smile.

"Better not tell them that."

"Something tells me they wouldn't mind. Well, if you've got an extra seat...I think I can take a week or so."

He grinned despite himself. "You got it."

"Okay. See you then," she said fondly. "I better get packing. Talk to you soon."

"Okay. See you. Bye." She returned it, and they hung up.

Steve glanced around to discover that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed. He sighed. "You can come out now."

Bucky awkwardly leaned out from behind the door, and Nat glanced down guiltily from the...ductwork? For goodness sake.

"Well?" Bucky prompted.

"She's coming," Steve sighed. "So you guys can stop spying on me now." They had the grace to at least look sheepish--at being caught.

Natasha dropped from the ducts, and Bucky said, "I better go call CNN."

"Why?"

"You and a woman had an actual conversation."

"I have conversations with women all the time! I talked to Peggy and Nat and Pepper and Gamora!"

"I haven't seen it yet." Bucky said calmly. Steve rolled his eyes.

"Punk."

"Jerk."

"Insults are actually fond statements." Natasha said wonderingly. "Is this what having siblings is like? It's adorable."

Bucky shrugged and stepped out.


End file.
